Just coffee
by englishGirl042
Summary: His gace automatically took in his surroundings, scanning the rooftops as he made his way through the crowd. Finally his steps ceased...there she was.


**Just coffee**

His gace automatically took in his surroundings, scanning the rooftops out of pure habit, as he made his way through the crowd of Piccadilly. As he rounded a corner, the people brushing past him got fewer. Finally his steps ceased and he came to a halt in front of a small bistro, looking rather like a common pub with a French name. He felt slightly frozen, as he studied the dusty exterior.

How often they had come here? – Uncountable times. He nearly had been shot right here on this spot. Afterwards he had gone home and fallen right to one knee in front of her, asking if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and she had squealed like a small girl, hugging him so forcefully, that they both landed on the floor of the new house, laughing.

His mouth curved as he thought of her in this white dress.

With a deep sigh he gave the bistro one last look and approached the wooden door.

Inside it was sticky, the bar was sparely filled and a few tables were occupied. He stopped in the entrance, looking around. The long, brown hair in the corner by the sunny window immediately caught his attention and he smiled. There she was, punctually as usual, a small mug already seated before her. She was talking to someone on the phone, a gentle smile on her lips.

A dark red dress fell lightly around her shoulders and together with her dark brown boots gave her a sensual appearance he found rather appealing. Her laughter rung over to him and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. Mentally shaking himself, he finally moved, walking over to her.

As she saw him, her face fell slightly and she quickly ended the conversation, dropping the phone in the bag beside her. He tried to overlook her now serious look with indifferent success and unbuttoned his black coat.

"Lucas.", she greeted him friendly but somehow distant.

"Elisabeta.", he said, his mouth twitching, as he took a seat opposite her on the small, round table.

"Early as usual."

"And you are five minutes late as usual." she stated a little impatiently.

"Some things never change." he replied smoothly, smiling.

"No, unfortunately they don't."

He chuckled softly, looking at her face closely, but a waiter came over to them, claiming his attention.

"Good afternoon. Have you chosen?"

"A small espresso, please." Lucas said quickly. The man nodded and walked away again.

"It seems that did not change as well."

Elisabeta leaned her hands on the table, her warm, brown eyes catching his blue ones.

"No, it didn't." he smiled.

"So, why did you want to meet? Does MI5 need information again?"

He was a bit startled by her businesslike manner.

"No, we don't."

She looked confused for a second. "Then why are you here?"

Lucas turned his head away for a moment, taking a deep breath, then he leaned closer, bracing on his elbows.

"I wanted to see you." he confessed softly.

Sadness crossed her face and she leaned back in her chair, away from him.

"Lucas …" her voice trailed away, but he shook his head quickly.

"Look, Veta. It's just a coffee, okay? Only a little chat during lunch break."

"Just coffee." she repeated doubt founded, her eyes studying him carefully.

"Just coffee. " he reassured her again, hoping desperately she wouldn't stand up and leave.

She eyed him doubtfully for another moment, but then she averted her eyes and sighed, nodding.

"Alright, but I have to go in an hour."

Lucas released the breath, he had not realised he'd been holding, smiling a relived smile.

"That's fine."

She returned his gace, the tension slowly leaving her.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" Elisabeta asked, taking a sip of her cappuccino. Lucas leant back in his chair, his arms resting on the table.

"I don't know. Everything. – You have a son?"

She looked up worried, placing her mug back in the saucer. "Yes, I do."

"Why don't you tell me a bit about him? What's his name?"

He gave her an encouraging smile and hoped that he would not come to regret this.

"His name is Leon and he is four years old." she told him slowly.

Lucas had suddenly difficulties swallowing his espresso, but managed to nod anyway.

"Oh. And is he now at nursery school?"

"Yes, he is.", her tone suddenly grew a little exasperated. "Hopefully he comes home with good news today. Last week he and another boy put glue on the teacher's chair."

Lucas looked at her in surprise and chuckled.

"So he is just like his mom."

"Be careful, ми́стер!" she immediately admonished him indignantly, but her eyes did get this glint he had so missed in her cold, distant looks the last month.

"What? You did the same with our history professor at university, if I remember correctly." he continued teasingly, smiling at her switch of languages.

"That was different!" she insisted, her mouth starting to curve.

"Yeah, you used super glue. The fire emergency guys had to cut him of the chair with a saw. He stood in front of the entire staff in his underpants."

"Well, I don't think anyone was particularly sorry, don't you?" she replied cheekily, smiling.

"Ah, many would have thanked you, if that hadn't made them look bad."

Lucas said lightly and caught her eyes. Her warm, laughing gace made his heartbeat quicken, like it had always done. After a moment she averted her eyes, breaking their intense glance.

"You did know it was me all the time?"

"Yes."

She shook her head, her eyes widening slightly in astonishment.

"Why didn't you say anything? Everyone thought it was you. You were the last in the room after the course."

Lucas smiled gently, remembering the funny, lively girl at university that had screwed his head effortlessly the first moment he saw her.

"I didn't want to."

"You got a warning and they nearly threw you out."Elisabeta insisted and studied him incredulously.

Lucas just shrugged his shoulders. "They had no prove."

"Why did you do it?" she asked again, insisting.

He sighed and let his eyes wander over the graceful, dainty lines of her face.

"Because… I liked you."

Elisabeta took in a startled breath. "But it took another two years before we got together."

"Yeah. It was quite hard to convince you, that you actually liked me as well." he replied, a grin crossing his face at the thought of his final success.

She laughed softly, her eyes gentle.

"I never needed convincing."

Now it was Lucas turn to stare.

"What?"

She averted her eyes, grasping her mug between her hands. "I was only scared."

He leaned closer, his breathing rather shallow.

"Why?"

She kept avoiding his intense gace, looking at the table.

"Maybe I thought you would not love me."

Lucas mouth curved tenderly at this.

"I did. Always have." he said softly, his heart beating against his ribcage as slowly stretched out his hands and covered hers that still held her mug. She gasped soundlessly and looked up, her eyes locking with his. He smiled, joy rushing through his system, as she let go of the mug hesitantly and turned her hands in his. Their fingers wrapped around each other so naturally as if they've never been apart. Lucas looked at her and wanted nothing more than to cross this few inches and kiss her.

"Lucas." Her breathless whisper sent a shiver down his spine.

"Veta.", he whispered back just as softly.

Suddenly a melodic ringtone ripped the moment and never in his life had Lucas hated this tone so much. He cursed under his breath and let go of her hands, reaching inside his coat pocket.

"I am so sorry." he quickly said to her, but she had already drawn her arms back.

"Its fine." she replied, but she did not sound fine at all.

"Hello.", he answered the call very briskly.

"Hello, Lucas. Have I done something?" Malcolm's voice replied dryly.

"Malcolm. No, of course not. It's just-, never mind. What do you need?"

"Harry wants you here, debriefing on our newest explosive friends."

"Fine. Looking forward to it. I'll be there in ten minutes." Sarcasm sneaked into his voice.

"Good, see you then."

"Yeah."

Lucas hung up and slowly laid the phone on the table, looking apologetically at Elisabeta.

"You must go." she stated calmly.

"Yes, I am sorry." he said, his tone leaving no doubt how he regretted leaving now.

She nodded. "I must go as well."

Elisabeta had slipped into her coat swiftly and picked up her bag before he even stood up.

"Veta…" his voice trailed away.

"This is your job, Lucas. And I think it's best if we won't meet again, unless your office doesn't need something from me.", she added firmly, her look distant again.

"Veta, please." he pleaded, desperately reaching for her hand, but she took a step back

"Goodbye, Lucas. It's been…nice."

With a small smile and a quick nod she walked away, giving the waiter a few pounds on her way out.

Lucas stood frozen, watching her open the door and disappear into the street.

After a moment he pulled on his coat and left as well. The waiter refused his money, telling him the lady had covered his part already. His mind was empty as he walked through the street.

The pain in his chest suddenly left him barely room to breath.

How was it that a past love could hurt worse than any torture?


End file.
